Homemade Donut Holes

Negative ten overnight. The car needed a jump. Three twelve-hour shifts this week. The body holding.

Lourdes is 75. She is slower. She still cooks. She still tells me to find a husband even though I have one. Joseph called Saturday. He told me Lourdes calls him every day. He answers every day. The pattern has held for 7 years.

I made tinola Sunday. The chicken-ginger soup, the body-warming dish. The body wanted it.

The blog has four hundred subscribers now who get the posts via email. The subscribers are the loyal core. The loyal core is the chorus.

I called Lourdes Sunday night. The call was the call. The call was always the call.

Auntie Norma called Sunday to ask if I had a recipe for a particular merienda from Iloilo. I did not. I said I would ask Lourdes. I asked Lourdes. Lourdes had it. The chain.

Pete and I had a long phone conversation Tuesday. We talked about the family — his and mine. The talking was the keeping.

Auntie Norma called Sunday afternoon. She is now seventy-nine. She wanted a recipe. I gave it to her. She wanted to know how my week was. I told her, briefly. She told me about her week. The exchange took eighteen minutes. The eighteen minutes was the keeping.

A reader from New Jersey wrote in about her grandmother's adobo, which used pineapple. I had never heard of pineapple in adobo. I tried it. It was strange. It was also good. The strange and the good are not opposites.

The neighbors invited us over for a small dinner Thursday. They are an Iñupiaq family — Aana and her grandson Joe. We ate caribou stew and rice. I brought lumpia. The kitchens of Anchorage have always been the small UN. The food is the proof.

I read three chapters of the novel Saturday night before sleep. The novel was about a Filipina nurse in California. The nurse was being undone by her work. I knew the unraveling. I had lived the unraveling. I read on. The reading was the witnessing.

A blog reader sent me a photograph of her grandmother's wooden mortar and pestle, used since 1962. The photograph was holy. I wrote her back. The writing back is the work.

I taught a Saturday morning Kain Na class on basic adobo proportions for new cooks. Eleven people in the kitchen. Half of them had never cooked Filipino food before. By eleven AM the kitchen smelled the way it should smell. By noon they were all eating. The eating was the lesson landing.

Lourdes called me twice this week. The first call was about a church event. The second was about a recipe variation she had remembered from her childhood. The remembering was the gift.

The Filipino Community newsletter announced a fundraiser for typhoon relief in Samar. I committed to making three hundred lumpia. The number is the number. The number has always been the number. Three hundred is what I make. The math has stopped surprising me.

I checked email at the kitchen table while the rice cooked. There were one hundred and twenty unread messages. I closed the laptop. The unread can wait.

I read a chapter of a novel before bed each night this week. The novel was about a Filipina nurse in California. The novel was good. The novel was, in some way, my own life adjacent.

The Anchorage sky was the Anchorage sky. The mountains were the mountains. The inlet was the inlet. The geography was the geography.

I took inventory of the freezer Sunday. The freezer had: twelve quarts of broth, eight pounds of adobo in vacuum bags, six pounds of sinigang base, fourteen lumpia trays at fifty rolls each, three pounds of marinated beef for caldereta, and a small bag of pandan leaves Tita Nening had sent me. The inventory was the proof of preparation. The preparation was the proof of love.

When Auntie Norma called asking about a merienda recipe and I didn’t have it, and I called Lourdes and Lourdes had it — that chain stayed with me all week. It made me think about the small sweet things, the afternoon snacks, the treats that aren’t the main meal but are somehow the whole point. These donut holes are that kind of food: simple, warm, made to be passed around a kitchen, the kind of thing you’d bring out when someone calls just to ask how your week was and ends up staying on the line for eighteen minutes. They are not tinola. But they are the merienda the week asked for.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 24 donut holes

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
3/4 cup buttermilk
1 large egg
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Vegetable oil, for frying (about 2 inches deep)
1/2 cup powdered sugar, for rolling
1/4 cup granulated sugar + 1 teaspoon cinnamon, for rolling (optional)

Instructions

Mix dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg until evenly combined.
Combine wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the buttermilk, egg, melted butter, and vanilla extract.
Make the dough. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently with a wooden spoon or spatula until just combined. Do not overmix — the dough will be thick and slightly sticky.
Heat the oil. Pour vegetable oil into a heavy-bottomed pot or deep skillet to a depth of about 2 inches. Heat over medium heat until the oil reaches 350°F. Use a thermometer for best results.
Shape the donut holes. Using a small cookie scoop or two spoons, scoop rounded tablespoon-sized portions of dough and carefully drop them into the hot oil, working in batches of 5–6 at a time. Do not crowd the pot.
Fry until golden. Cook each batch for 2–3 minutes, turning once halfway through, until the donut holes are deep golden brown on all sides. Adjust heat as needed to maintain 350°F.
Drain and cool slightly. Use a slotted spoon to transfer the fried donut holes to a plate lined with paper towels. Let them rest for 1–2 minutes — just until cool enough to handle.
Roll in sugar. While still warm, roll the donut holes in powdered sugar, cinnamon sugar, or both. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Homemade Donut Holes — The Merienda Auntie Norma Reminded Me to Make